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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538384">Lifetime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottonCharms/pseuds/CottonCharms'>CottonCharms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lifetime [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji X Reader, F/M, Fluff, Reader inserts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:33:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,327</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27538384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CottonCharms/pseuds/CottonCharms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At times, Akaashi ponders. Could there have been a lifetime waiting for him, in a world where he was yours?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji x Reader - Relationship, Akaashi Keiji/Reader, akaashi keiji/ you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lifetime [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Kathang Isip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kathang-isip is a filipino word which translates to either ‘illusion’, ‘work of fiction’, ‘trick of the mind’ or ‘things you make up”. There is no direct equivalent to the english language as various use of it in sentences would tend to change its meaning.</p>
<p>However, the title is also dedicated to Ben and Ben for their song “Kathang-isip”. And in that song they say,</p>
<p>/I am sorry for my the things my mind make up,                     </p>
<p>These are only caused by my love for you//</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In his fading consciousness, there were still remnants of clarity.</p>
<p>He feels the calloused, cold fingers glide across his hot skin. The movements start from his neck, sliding to his cheek, before settling the back of their hand to his scalding forehead. He moves involuntarily, towards the owner of the hand, soaking in the frigid difference of their skin.</p>
<p>The temperature comforts him, soothes him in his struggles for relief against the fever dream. Their touches held wonders as it travels to his locks with affirming affection by twirling their fingers through his curls.</p>
<p>Akaashi whines as he yearns for more contact with the skin. Their gracing fingers lifts away from him and was replaced with a new slushy, cool, wet sensation over his heating forehead. It was a refreshing exchange, but it could never replace the relief from the pads of their fingertips.</p>
<p>He opens his eyes, hot and heavy. And sees a view that made him heat up from both frustration and heart-raising anticipation.</p>
<p>They kneel beside him, carefully wiping the sweat away from his temple. Their gentle caress is enough to lull him back to peaceful slumber, yet he refuses to sleep. Akaashi couldn’t pass the opportunity to have them so near, so close in fact, that if he has any energy left, he’d pull them in the threshold of his privacy for a sole embrace.</p>
<p>A privilege to be indulged by an entity of ease.</p>
<p>Akaashi mewls. He doesn’t know when, or how, but he coolness of your fingers intertwine with his own. Gently you wipe the sweat away through the caress of your thumb. Did he act according to his impulse? Or did they take the initiative to coddle him, to reward him with a shared silent devotion he held for them?</p>
<p>He chooses the latter. His mind drifting away in disarray. The concept of logic had muted out to the back of his conscience as it fails to distinguish painful reality from hopeful dreaming. The heat radiating from his eyes made him sore. Too much, that he feels each blink takes too long, and they’d vanish like a mirage. Too good to be true.</p>
<p>He calls them. Their name distorts at the roll of his tongue. He might have gotten a syllable in, but his tongue feels too heavy to form any coherent word.</p>
<p>Embarrassingly, he mumbles and pushes through a croak of an apology, but they silence him with a brush of their index finger along his heated lips. He worships the brush of your skin to his dry, chapped skin. Reluctantly, at the same time, curses himself for spoiling his heart a tad too much.</p>
<p>There were moments when he wondered if the soul was something so fragile as a mere scathe of their fingers would shatter him to fine dust and pieces. Their existence had made weak, yet had patched him up under their guarded security,</p>
<p>They laugh, with rhythmic beats of softness and never in the taunt.</p>
<p>“So many people have not handled you with care,” they guide the softness of their palms, carefully enclosing to his reddening cheeks. “but you’ll heal in time. Trust me, Akaashi.”His labored breaths were a dead give away to how weak he was</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Mabagal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Two souls just wanting to dance with each other, slowly.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>‘Gusto kitang isayaw ng mabagal’<br/>It could either mean: (1) I want to have a slow dance with you or (2) I want to dance with you slowly. I think the latter is more intimate, yes? It implies a similar action yet the allusion of time to spend it with your partner makes it sweeter.</p><p>Also, thank you for liking “Lifetime: Kathang Isip.” It really warms my heart to read the feedback I received I played a different writing style with this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You weren’t a gifted dancer. </p><p>It was one of the many flaws to make you imperfect for most. But for Akaashi Keiji, the inconsistent sway of your hips, your erratic follow up to the tune, and the aching steps over his toes, he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect partner.</p><p>His hand traveled south, just below to the side of your waist, while the other roamed, holding your stiff shoulders. He moved slow, cautious, afraid that you might pull away from a small miscalculation of his eager behavior.</p><p>But to his relief, you didn’t.</p><p>You stepped from side to side, somehow making a rhythm to the beat of your own heart. He felt it, of course, your raging pulse under the thin dress you wore for the company gala. You were still quick to shy away and hide behind an overcoat, but it was proved to be in vain. Mind you, everyone was practically begging to have your first dance when you appeared at the golden entrance, but he made sure that he was your first.</p><p>Preferably your last, if he was being selfish.</p><p>You agreed, and it caught him off guard. Your eyes purposely avoided his own, sheltering the blooming courage beneath the layers of a shy demeanor. </p><p>“But only for a single dance,” you warned as you drag him to a space away from curious crowds. You made it clear that you were never a gifted dancer.</p><p>He accepted nonetheless. He doesn’t mind since it was you. Even if you soiled his polished shoes, even if his toes curl from the pain, with the seconds he has you in a private dance, the pain would have been worth it.</p><p>He soaked in every inch of you to his memory. Even from the moment, your fingers curled into his palm, and until the final beat of the tune as the soft ambiance of jazz play shift in the background. He doesn’t want the moment to reach its end, yet he has to keep his promise for a single song.</p><p>He lets go, slowly, still hesitant to leave your warmth from the cold balcony air. The dimmed city lights had given you a certain glow, shy and meek. Just like the way you danced, but still graceful and breathtaking all the same. He dared hold you for a moment more, but he wasn’t the type to give in to his weakness.</p><p>Discipline was one of his praised traits.</p><p>“Thank you for the lovely dance,” he praised, clearing the tension away to return to disheartening reality.“Do you want to get back? It’s getting cold, (y/n)-san, you might catch a cold if you won’t come in.”</p><p>He expected you to shuffle back to the warmth of the party once the tune has reached its end, but you remain silent. The trembling of your lips had vanished but new vibrations were sent to the frigid air. </p><p>You hummed the continuation of the song, welcoming him into another melodious bliss.</p><p>“The song is still playing Akaashi-san,” you sang, holding his hands with your own, leading it to the available space of your lower back. There were still remnants of insecurity behind your daring advances, but you were brave nonetheless.</p><p>"Let’s continue dancing since the song still playing right? You’re a gentleman after all. So honor your word.”</p><p>Were you teasing him? You piqued his interest with your bold initiations. Your grip, your movements, and the way you lay your head on his chest had him ingrained the intimacy to the core of his soul.</p><p>“As you wish,” he basked under your rhythmic hums.</p><p>Maybe you were as selfish as him too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. a day before lifetime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>he wanted to give her roses.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>red ones, </em>he clarified, but the color was sold out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>the setter asked for<em> pink.</em> a reminder for your sweet nature after offering him an occasional onigiri on a good match. it was gone too.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>peach? For gratitude. </em>he bargained, wallet ready for the price demanded. rare colors meant higher a price.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>the shopkeeper shook her head. then maybe <em>Lavender. </em>you had charmed him with your smile and witty nature after all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>she returned. empty handed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>he asked her for other colors, and her eyes beamed. positively, he hopes. and she returns with a single <em>yellow </em>rose in hand.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>friendship? </em>she nodded. wrapping a singular lace around it for good measure.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>akaashi thanks her. and feels the cold air as he leaves the shop.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>yellow. friendship. </em>are those the only thing he could offer?</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>
    <em>was that all he could ever gain?</em>
  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>ah- roses. you requested for the flora specifically. any color as you didn’t mind to the specification of its kind.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>but... <em>could you ever want more than yellow roses?</em></p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>He just wanted to give you flowers.<br/>New year same feelings. Suffer, Akaashi.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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